


We walk unseen, hands clasped together, while ink-blue night falls upon the world

by entrecomillas



Category: Social Network (2010) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-19
Updated: 2011-07-19
Packaged: 2017-11-03 02:45:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entrecomillas/pseuds/entrecomillas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The sun is still high at 8 pm, the busy streets of Madrid bubbling with life. Plaza del Sol is now full of tourists eager to take their picture next to the bear and the tree statue and of living statues. Andrew drops an euro in the hat of a man painted in silver. He suddenly sneezes and falls back on his ass. The crowd in the square cheers and Jesse just shakes his head and smiles.</i><br/>They're in Spain for the promotional tour of TSN. Fluff happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We walk unseen, hands clasped together, while ink-blue night falls upon the world

“How about here?”

“It’s an Irish Pub. We’re _so_ not going into an Irish Pub, got enough of those at home. Enough of those everywhere, really.”

Jesse frowns and keeps walking next to Andrew. “It’s just.. I figured they’d speak English here.”

Andrew laughs and hooks his arm to Jesse’s walking uphill to Plaza del Sol. 

“Sure they’ll speak English. They probably speak English everywhere; this is Madrid, not a small town elsewhere. There’re KFCs and Starbucks in every corner. We don’t want that, though.”

Jesse smiles and looks up to Andrew “We don’t?”

“Nuh-uh. We want _pinchos_. And beer, lots of beer.”

The sun is still high at 8 pm, the busy streets of Madrid bubbling with life. Plaza del Sol is now full of tourists eager to take their picture next to the bear and the tree statue and of living statues. Andrew drops an euro in the hat of a man painted in silver. He suddenly sneezes and falls back on his ass. The crowd in the square cheers and Jesse just shakes his head and smiles.

They decide the high street is going to be too full and they’re better off at a cozier place. They keep walking and turning left and right when they see fit until they reach a place that looks _Spanish_ enough for Andrew.

It ends up being just meters away from Plaza Mayor.

“Andrew, you _do_ realize we’re still in the most touristic place? You couldn’t even get us lost.”

“Shh, it was all part of the plan.” At Jesse’s distrusting expression Andrew adds “Somehow.” with a flourish of his hand.

“By the way, just as a reminder…”

Jesse lifts his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“We’re in Spain.” Andrew deadpans.

“Shocking.”

“What I mean is… We’re in Spain. We’re not keeping Kosher, you’re not going to be a vegetarian. We’re mixing our ham with our dairy and that’s cos we’re definitely having ham. Damn, we’ll have an entire leg.”

“I doubt we could finish an entire leg, but yes, we’ll eat a lot. We’re in Spain, got it.”

“ _Excelente_ ” Andrew grins and motions for the waiter.

The man is in his forties and has a sizable belly. His apron stretches over it as he approaches their table and when he finally gets to the table he smiles and asks “Buenas noches, ¿se han decidido ya?”

Andrew smiles at him apologetically and mumbles “¿Hablas inglés?”

The waiter shakes his head and makes the universal sign of _stop_ and turns his head. “¡Carlos!” he shouts “¡Ven pronto que hay unos turistas! ¡Hablan inglés!” He looks again at Andrew and Jesse and says “Sorry, just one minute” in the least English English the boys have ever heard.

Carlos is younger and works in the kitchens. He greets them with a flushed face and Jesse doesn’t know if that’s because he had to run or because he’s recognized them. 

Andrew orders for both; _cañas, patatas bravas_ and _jamón Serrano_. Carlos nods and leaves with the menus.

“You could have asked the other guy for that, you said it all in Spanish.”

“I could have had questions. Anyway, shut up, you’re the one who wanted English speaking people.”

Jesse smiles and is about to reply when the older waiter comes back with their pints. They clink their glasses and start sipping.

“I just don’t like being made fun of. Or something. I mean, you saw how that ant thing went.”

“Are we referring to it as the ‘ant thing’?”

“We’re not referring to it in any way ever again if I have a say in it.”

“It was just an hour and we’ve had it worse. Come on, not all Spanish people are like that douche.”

“I know, it’s just…” Jesse starts doodling on the condensation in his beer “I felt embarrassed for not speaking Spanish. We are so self-centered, why does Carlos speak two languages? I mean, why don’t we, too?”

“I thought you spoke Polish?”

Jesse rolls his eyes. “Irrelevant. Most people I know who speak more than one language are either foreign or of foreign ascendant. It’s like… I don’t know, we should learn other languages.”

Andrew smiles at him. “I hear you. I’ve learnt some Portuguese and it’s amazing.”

The waiter approaches them with their _raciones_. They both smile and say _gracias_.

“Andrew, your Eduardo research doesn’t count. You couldn’t spend a day in Brazil without using English.”

Andrew forks a potato and waves it around accusingly.

“I’ll have you know, I could _definitely_ spend a day without using English. Heck, even a week.”

“Oh really?”

“ _Sim._ ” he says with a smile. Then he bites the potato and closes his eyes in pleasure. “The perfect amount of spice. Damn, I love these.”

Jesse tries one and agrees. They’re quite amazing. He gets some bread and tastes the ham next. It’d be surprisingly good were it not for the fact that he had expected it to be perfect. They were in Spain after all.

“So what other Portuguese things did you learn? Could they actually help you survive for a week?”

Andrew downs the rest of his pint and waves and points to it with a smile once he catches the waiter’s eye.

“Well, I learnt the names of some foods and fruits.”

“Yeah, that’d be useful. So at least you wouldn’t starve, right?”

“Exactly. I also learned other stuff.”

“Such as?”

“ _Preciso de você. Você tem camisinha?_ ”

“Uhm, _você_ means ‘you’, right? I’ve no idea about the rest.”

“Well, things get lost in translation, but I guess ‘I need you. Do you have a condom?’ is pretty accurate.”

Jesse smirks and takes a gulp of his beer.

“Food and sex. You’ve got it all covered.”

“I told you I could be in Brazil for a week without using English.”

“So that’s all you can go without using English? Food and sex not enough after a week?”

Andrew runs a hand down his hair and stares wistfully into nothingness. “Well, I’d like to progress to kinkier things after a week and my Portuguese is not good enough to discuss the mechanics beforehand.”

Jesse bites his lips and tilts his head to one side. “ _Kinkier?_ You mean it’d be kinky to begin with?”

Andrew smirks. “We’re talking sex with Andrew Garfield. Of course it’d be kinky.”

“Hm, I don’t know. You’re the biggest cuddler I’ve ever known.”

“Mine are some fucking kinky cuddles, _amigo_. Don’t be fooled by my apparent tameness.”

Andrew wipes his mouth with a napkin while Jesse smiles into his remaining beer. Once he sets his glass down Andrew is calling the waiter again.

“You don’t want anything else, right?” Jesse shakes his head no and Andrew gets the bill.

Jesse stares at the stack of bills in Andrew’s wallet and almost as an afterthought states “Euros are so weird.”

Andrew frowns and smiles at him –that’s an actual thing Andrew’s particularly good at; doing all kinds of gestures usually associated with discomfort or sternness, even sadness look nice and warm- “What do you mean?”

“They come in all these different colors. And sizes. I mean, what’s up with that. The colors, I get it, but the sizes? You can’t ever stack them properly. You can’t do that thing where you keep turning them and tapping them so they’ll fall into place.”

“I usually just chuck them into the wallet as they come.”

Jesse rolls his eyes impatiently as they get through the door “Well, yes. You’re Andrew. You’re a money-slaughterer.”

“You always make sure your bills are ordered by value and that all presidents are facing the same way, don’t you?” Andrew chuckles.

“Of course I do. It’s the humanitarian thing to do. And it’s easier.”

They are entering Plaza Mayor and they seem to be surrounded by living statues again.

“How is it easier?”

“It just is.” Jesse deadpans and tugs at Andrew’s sleeve until he starts walking again, away from the man playing musical glasses. 

“Where are we going?” Andrew asks, tripping over his long limbs as Jesse guides him through the mass of tourists. The night has fallen around them and the square is lit with thousand little lights and neon colored toys the street vendors are shoving in the hands of little children.

Jesse looks at Andrew over his shoulder with a smile. “We’re getting ice cream” 

The ice cream parlor is small and crowded. Jesse wants berries and mascarpone and Andrew wants mango. They get cones because any other choice would be ridiculous, really, and make their way back to the hotel.

Andrew’s silently cursing when he starts getting the ice cream on his hands, it melting too fast for him to keep up. Jesse smirks and takes it from Andrew’s hand, licking at the sides of the ice cream while twirling the cone. 

“There you go.” He says as he returns the cone.

Andrew stares at Jesse, who alternates between licking and sucking, both his ice cream and his lips. Jesse frowns “You’re doing it again. You have to be quicker or it’ll melt. Haven’t you ever had an ice cream cone before?”

Andrew laughs and bites at his ice cream, his teeth sinking in the mango cream easily. “I _have_ had ice cream before, yes, thank you. I just..” Andrew laughs again and stops in his tracks, shuffles his feet.

Jesse keeps walking until he realizes Andrew’s not following him. He turns and goes back to Andrew. “What?” he asks, now tipping his head back so he can slurp whatever ice cream’s left inside the cone.

They’re in one of the narrow and crooked streets surrounding the square. There’s a light breeze that ruffles Jesse’s curls and not a soul in sight. 

“I just had forgotten how phallic ice cream cones are.”

Jesse practically spits the ice cream in his mouth. Andrew starts shaking with laughter and drops his ice cream.

“Come here.” Jesse looks at him, doesn’t move. “I’m already here, Andrew.”

It’s true, they’ve never paid attention to things like _personal space_ or _boundaries_ , not when it came to each other, at least. Andrew leans back until his back is resting against the brick wall and puts his arms around Jesse’s back, bringing him along. Jesse is now closer –completely flushed against him at best, an inch apart at worst. Andrew smiles and his flush is a secret kept by the yellowish lighting of the Madrilenian night bathing his features. He leans down and closes his eyes as his lips touch Jesse’s.

There are sighs and temples touching, there are also words, but that’s not important because what matters, what really matters, is that there are lips upon lips, and that they are Andrew’s upon Jesse’s.

**Author's Note:**

> Longest title ever taken from Neruda's [Even in this half light](http://www.karldallas.com/Dark-hairedWoman/#_Toc138653710). All descriptions of Madrid are taken from personal experience, please let me know if there's anything that seems fake or incorrect. 
> 
> The 'ant thing' is about the cast going to [El Hormiguero"](http://ohnotheydidnt.livejournal.com/53702581.html) and some jokes Jesse made on Conan. I've watched that show a couple of times and I find it lame and stupid, but to each their own.
> 
> This was written for Brutal, who demanded I used my holiday experiences to write fic. Her wishes are my commands.


End file.
